


Something Wicked This Way Comes

by Irenesapprentice



Category: American Horror Story, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A coven is better than a pack, Abused Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Fiona, Beacon Hills High School, Beheading, Black is aesthetic, Claudia was a witch, Dark Stiles Stilinski, Don't fuck with witches, Don't mess with the supreme, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fiona and Stiles hit it off, Fiona in Beacon Hills, Fiona is Stile's aunt, Fiona is a mood 24/7, Fuck Scott McCall, Fuck the Scott McCall pack, Implied Sexual Content, John is a bad father, Madison isn't a total bitch, Mentor!Fiona, Revenge, The witches in Beacon Hills, Torturing, Underage Drinking, Violence, Witchcraft, Witches are the strongest supernatural creatures, Zoey and Madison are BFF's, scott mccall is a piece of shit, stiles is a witch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-06-25 00:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19734475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irenesapprentice/pseuds/Irenesapprentice
Summary: Stiles was kicked out of the pack after Theo manipulated everyone into believing he is a murderer. Bullied at school by his former friends and abused at home by his alcoholic father, he spirals into near insanity. Help comes from the most unlikely source in the form of Fiona Goode - the Supreme of the witches and apparently his aunt. Vengeance, copious amounts of alcohol and a whole new coven that instantly took him in - things just got a whole lot more interesting.





	1. Darkness Descends

**Author's Note:**

> The fact that Scott fucking McCall thinks that its his duty to interfere and meddle in every fucking thing that in no way concerns him has me fucked up from day one. It got me thinking that if only he could have met someone like Fiona to knock him down a peg or five. And here we are. Fuck that saintly self righteous bastard.

Fiona Goode was feeling _amazing_. Her power swirled heavily around her. Inside her. None of the tiredness that only yesterday had wracked her body and pulled at her life force. She was just as surprised as the other person when she followed the pull of the power flow and ended up not at the academy where her dear foolish daughter presided like a contemptuous mother hen, but at some high end salon in downtown Los Angeles.

She almost felt bad for that poor girl - it wasn't her fault she was chosen by whatever god damned mystical force to become her successor. She could still feel the fear that clouded the air as with a flick of her fingers Mallory Hendrickson burned into a pile of ashes. The abrupt flow of power returning into her body more than made up for it however, as it restored her youth and cured whatever disease had began to take hold as she faded. Killing her. Wracking her nerves with pain and torment.

With a sigh she rose from the white marble bathtub and wrapped herself in one of those plush robes she always loved these kind of hotels for. With a glass of wine in hand she thumbed through the records that were by the antique record player.

"Boring."

"Boring."

"Bad in bed."

"Who?"

"Bo - oh... how ironic" Fiona couldn't help but to laugh as she fished the record out of its envelope and fixed the needle to it.  
A hypnotic upbeat rhythm belted out

> _So long ago_  
>  _Certain place_  
>  _Certain time_  
>  _You touched my hand_  
>  _All the way_  
>  _All the way down to Emmeline_

Glass in hand, Fiona began to sway.

> _But if our paths never cross_  
>  _Well, you know I'm sorry but_  
>  _If I live to see the seven wonders_  
>  _I'll make a path to the rainbow's end_  
>  _I'll never live to match the beauty again_  
>  _The rainbow's end_

Round and round the penthouse she twirled, hair sprinkling water, her hands clasped tightly around herself, eyes closed as memories grasped out to her.

> _So it's hard to find_  
>  _Someone with that kind of intensity_  
>  _You touched my hand I played it cool_  
>  _And you reached out your hand for me_

Fiona could almost feel Stevie's hand in hers, all those years ago in Miss Robichaux's Academy. She could taste happiness in those hidden moments as they snuck out onto the roof every night to _their_ spot , the stars glittering above them and the moon shining almost as bright as the light in Stevie's eyes.

> _But if our paths never cross_  
>  _Well you know I'm sorry but_

And then Stevie was gone. It was Fiona's fault in part. She had dragged Stevie for a fun night out at some bar that she couldn't for the life of her remember the name of. Several shots later after performing concilium on the bartender - bribery would have been less of a hassle but it wouldn't have made Stevie's eyes - damn those eyes- light up in that way that made Fiona want to melt - she had convinced Stevie to go up on stage and show off her amazing voice. How was she to know that damned band Fleet whatever would be there that night. They wowed her with their tales of fame and rock and roll. Told her to come with them.

"A voice like yours would be a shame to waste" bloody bastard.

In the moment it didn't feel serious at all. Why would Stevie - a witch, not particularly gifted but who cares - go off with these mundanes. So Fiona laughed along with them, dragging Stevie away before she could get too drunk, reminding her that they needed to get back to the academy.

"Here's my room number and the name of the motel we're staying at if you change your mind" she supposed Stevie took the paper out of politeness, her mind too buzzed to think much of such a silly possibility that she might have been interested. And if Stevie was being strangely disconnected on the ride home Fiona supposed she had too much to drink, she never was one to drink much.  
And the next morning when she woke up Stevie was gone. An envelope attached to a small leather journal all that remained. Fiona inscribed on it in neat small script. Fiona never opened either of them .

> _If I live to see the seven wonders_  
>  _I'll make a path to the rainbow's end_  
>  _I'll never live to match the beauty again_  
>  _The rainbow's end_

Two years later Stevie Nicks was one of the biggest names in rock and roll.  
"A voice that was magical" they said.  
And Fiona - Fiona was a murderer, the most powerful witch in existence and her heart was as cold as ice.

> _So long ago_  
>  _It's a certain time_  
>  _It's a certain place_  
>  _You touched my hand and you smiled_  
>  _All the way back you held out your hand_  
>  _If I hope and I pray_  
>  _Ooh it might work out someday_

Fiona flung out her hand and the record screeched to a stop. There was a burning in her chest and wetness on her face that wasn't from her hair. She clenched her fist and the record smashed to pieces. The silence served to shatter the moment and Fiona drained her glass and began toweling her hair. 

"Look at you being all foolish and nostalgic" she sneered at her reflection in the clear balcony door, the night sky sparkling outside. It wasn't like Stevie was the biggest tragedy of her life. No. That honor was reserved for the debacle that was her relationship with Cordelia. Claudia was a close second. 

Claudia... Fiona paused. Fiona never once thought about her estranged sister. Running off with a mundane man, shaming the family name. Fiona scoffed, all three of her girls seemed to have done the same thing. Human men were good enough to sleep with don't get her wrong, but to fall in love with one, and turn your back on your people for their sake. She shuddered. _However_... regardless of her anger, pangs of loneliness pulsed in the place her sister once occupied. They were sent to the academy together at the tender age of seven and nine,

Claudia was there for her little sister through everything - her confusing feelings for Stevie, her first menstrual cycle, helping her develop into a young woman, her heartbreak and the shit show that followed, her ascension to the supremacy - although she never told her about what truly happened to Anna Leigh, some things are better left secret even from those closest to you. So when Claudia came to her newly crowned sister and asked her permission to depart the coven - for this John somebody - Fiona bit her anger back, bit back the savage urge to _force_ her sister to stay and told her to go and stay gone, no postcards or communication would be necessary.

Claudia of course ever stubborn had still sent the yearly Christmas card which Fiona grudgingly read but never responded to of course. She had settled in some god-forsaken-middle-of-nowhere town called Beacon Hills. She had gotten a kid that was given the most abominable name Fiona had ever heard and she had for all intent and purposes become just another run of the mill housewife. Scowling Fiona resumed toweling her hair with renewed vengeance.

Claudia had _betrayed_ her, had _left_ her.. and yet she couldn't help but to miss her sister. She wanted to talk to her, tell her all her crazy adventures over the years, be close to her. Perhaps it was time... Fiona threw the towel on the floor and grabbed a map from the bedside drawer. Wasn't Beacon Hills in the same state as Los Angeles? She scanned the map and smiled. A few days drive at the most. Mind made up she stood, magically steaming her hair into sleek waves.

"Ready or not Claudia. Here I come"


	2. Saving Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Stiles in the midst of his life falling apart. Fiona arrives in Beacon Hills.

Stiles was grateful for the rain. He _always_ had been. But in these past few months more so than ever. His jeep rumbled down the slightly misty forest lined highway-the heating like so many other components of it was busted, leaving him to feel the full effects of the autumn cold, amplified by the pouring rain. But Stiles couldn’t bear to part with his jeep, damaged it may be. How could he? It was the only memory of his mother he had left – her face and smell long since lost to the passage of time.

"She would know what to do" Stiles thought. She always did. She would have sat him down and forced him to spill what was bothering him – gently of course. She was always gentle. Her hands rough from farming the land behind their property were always careful when holding him, her voice while always stern never bore any harshness to him. She was always there for him. Stiles started to cry. Hot. Heavy, silently. The steady movements of the windshield wiper and the pouring rain filled the silence instead

She would have known how to handle Scott. She would have known how to handle that fucking bastard Theo who came into his life and fucked everything up. _Although,_ Stiles thought manically, perhaps there hadn’t been much to fuck up to begin with. Bile rose to his throat at the rightness of the thought – a thought just as bitter and hard to swallow; one that had been playing in his mind in the past few lonely months he had to self reflect on the whole shit show that was his life. Stiles had placed said life in two categories:- before the bite and after the bite.

Life was relatively simple before the bite; Scott and himself were typical nerds, he applied mediocre attention to his classes, enough to retain all passes but he didn’t care for straight A’s , he kept his father more or less alive by watering his alcohol and occasionally convincing him to eat something other than greasy take out – although he had soon learned that pushing too hard would not result in ideal solutions if the dull pain in his ribs were any indicator.

After the bite things went to a whole new level of fucked – Scott was drunk on power and thought it was his sole duty to investigate and interfere in every single fucking issue that was in a five mile supernatural radius, and apparently Stiles was expected to come along for the ride too. And did he say no? Did he refuse to get involved in things him – a human should have no business getting involved in? No. He went along with Scott – his supposed _brother_ because Scott was all he had. But now Stiles wasn’t all Scott had and that changed things.

And then there was all the fucked up shit. Scott met Allison whose family were hunters out with the intent to eradicate his kind from the world. Such a thing would make anyone say fuck it, there are other chicks right? Not Scott. He somehow thought that he could definitely manage to deal with hunters, blood lust at the full moon, an alpha trying to kill him, Derek, lacrosse and school all at the same time. And when Stiles was there at every turn helping him what thanks did he get? Near death and neglect. Absolutely fitting.

Stiles couldn't help but to remember every dumb idea Scott had that he had played along with. The Alpha Pack had descended – Scott **HAD** to get involved, even though it had absolutely nothing to do with him. He laughed hysterically – Scott a werewolf that knew the bare minimum of being such a creature, actually though he could go toe to toe with alpha’s that had murdered their owns packs and dozens of other ones. Alpha’s that have probably been alive for far longer than Stiles wanted to think about. And even that wasn’t enough to make Stiles listen to the voice that gnawed inside of him, that warned him over and over to back away. To withdraw. Get the hell out of Dodge. But truth be told he loved the distraction of having something to throw himself into, to distract himself from himself. And what better thing to do that than finding a dark druid that was sacrificing humans in threes? Or have hardly a day go by when his life wasn't in mortal danger?

Then there was Kira - Stiles flinched, memories from his time possessed by the Nogitsune surfacing. The fact that he was the host to the being that killed Scott’s girlfriend was perhaps the biggest factor that served to fast track the rift between them. It was downhill from there – paranoia and emptiness had replaced the darkness of the fox spirit, a whole new type of darkness . Stiles had barely eaten for the following year, ghosting through his classes and helping Scott when he needed help –the only time they really talked. Scott hadn’t noticed anything was off with him, or if he had it wasn’t on his immediate list of concern.

Stiles felt sick as more memories flashed across his mind. Jackson's lizard form, Kate’s return, her death, Erica's death, Boyd's death, the events of the hit list. Jesus Christ, he could go on. But none compared to the nightmare that was going on now. Scientifically engineered were-beings. Of all the fuckery. Were-Wendigos, Were-chimera’s, Were-kanimas. An intense feeling of _wrong_ flashed through him at the thought of them. His head pounded just trying to wrap his head around everything. The dread doctors were straight out of a cliché horror film. And Theo… turned all of his “friends” against him; Stiles really should have gone with his instincts to begin with – about Theo, about Scott, about everything. And now here he was, driving home from one hell to another. Scott was not content with just disowning him, oh no, he had all of his lackeys keeping him under surveillance, giving him hostile stares and bumping into him in the hallways. Like he was some ticking time bomb. The rest of the school had caught on and now he was like the second coming of the plague – lower on the totem pole than he was before all this started. Alone. Targeted – it was only a matter of time before Theo took him out to ensure that his plan whatever it was didn’t fall through. Stiles wanted to scream.

Instead of screaming however, he forced his mind into some semblance of order as he pulled into his driveway. His father’s police car wasn’t there as yet and he let out a sigh of relief, the less interactions with him the better. Grabbing his bag he power walked into the house, locking the door behind him – as though that would do anything against the type of danger Beacon Hills held- and trudged upstairs to the bathroom. He stripped off his damp clothes and slipped into the shower, grateful for the hot water after the intense cold of the rise home. And if he set the water so hot that his skin blazed red, it didn’t matter he reasoned with himself– it meant he was still feeling, it meant he was still human. He mechanically toweled his skin and hair letting his eyes wonder aimlessly around the small bathroom. He paused. Eyes stared back at him. He took a shaky step to the mirror – mentally searching back to the last time he had bothered to do so – and stared at the foreign boy looking back at him.

Stiles was never a robustly built young man and nor did he suspect he would ever be; and with the limited sunshine he took on the rare occasion he ventured outside of his room, it was also fair to say he wasn’t going to gain any color soon either. But _this_ … this person looking back him, ribs on prominent display – the right set blotched with an ugly purple bruise that stood out against stark white skin – _this_ was never supposed to be him. His eyes were never supposed to look this manic, his hair was never supposed to hang limp and almost lifeless. Stiles was beginning to think that he had a problem and even more worrying he could not seem to bring himself to care.

The slamming of the front door sent a shock through his body.

“Shit. Shitshitshit” he swore, grabbing his clothes and bolting out the bathroom. Footsteps were coming up the stairs – heavy and disoriented. He made it to his room just in time, softly closing the door with a wince and bolting it quietly. His heart was beating too fast for his liking, every breath seemed too heavy as he stepped back from the path of the door and waited with every nerve on edge. The footsteps paused outside. His heart hammered. The doorknob turned. For a moment all was still. Then the knob was released and the footsteps continued down the hall. Stiles sank to the floor, too consumed by panic to do much else.

“Fucking ridiculous” he mumbled to himself. After _everything_ he had seen and been through, a drunken middle aged man was enough to bring him to his knees. Pathetic. The toilet flushed and five seconds later the bathroom door slammed, the footsteps retreating downstairs. Stiles pulled himself off the floor and rummaged through his closet for sweatpants and a sweater. He collapsed into bed, body aching although he couldn’t – with the exception of his ribs- place why. The house lay perfectly silent – no, if he strained he could hear the faint sound of the television. He could picture his father sprawled on the couch, beer in hand, watching some game or the other. Gone were the days where he would have been sat right next to him. But there was no point dwelling on such things anymore. The “what ifs” and “could've been” would eat him alive if he ever descended down that rabbit hole.

So instead Stiles laid there. Staring at the ceiling. Minutes passed, hours perhaps, and night fell. Stiles had settled into an almost state of slumber – that blissful half awake state, when the doorbell rang. His half lidded eyes flew open, disoriented. He sat up and listened. The outside night was alive with all manner of insects and the trees creaked in the wind. He heard the faint sound of the front door hinges squeak open. A pause. Then his father was speaking rather loudly, voice muffled, words indistinguishable. The hinges made a sudden quick squeak as though he tried to slam the door and then –

CRASH!

The sound of a heavy collision and glass breaking had him bolting off the bed and reaching for his baseball bat. His first panicked thought was to call Scott – but then he remembered. His second thought was to call the police – but his father was the police. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. Silence. He considered staying locked in his room but dismissed the idea instantly – who knows what or how many were out there. Being trapped in a small space was not ideal.

“Be brave Stiles” he whispered and undid the bolt as slowly and quietly as he could. He gingerly opened the door and peeked outside. Nothing. He tiptoed outside and edged his way down the steps, one at a time, baseball bat held upright like a broadsword. He reached downstairs and cast his eyes around. The front door was wide open, and on the opposite side of the room – his father was trapped under the china cabinet – unconscious and surrounded by bits of broken china.

Click! Clack! The sound of – was that heels? Stiles thought incredulously, came from the kitchen, heading into the – the living room! Where he was standing in plain view. Shitshitshit.

“Ah! You must be little Mieczyslaw” A woman stepped into the living room – dressed in a body fitting black dress, her platinum blond hair short and sleek. Power – there was no other word to describe it- rolled off her, filled the air around her.

“My name is Fiona Goode" she raised her hand and the front door slammed shut. His eyes widened.

"Do take a seat nephew, we have lots to catch up on"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you don't mind the change of narration style (if you have noticed it at all). I try to change it to fit the characters and this screamed Stiles at me. What do you guys think so far? Fiona is here in Beacon Hills now, things are about to get interesting.


	3. Fiona's road trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look into Fiona's journey to Beacons Hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to jump right into where the last chapter left off but I felt this would add more depth and perception to the story. The next chapter is almost done and should be up by tomorrow.

Fiona was almost certain she was lost. Not one with a particular fondness for technology, she had elected to take the map from the hotel room when she left, instead of using GPS. A map that had roads running through the country side that would eventually get her to where she was going if she had no desire to use the high way. Thinking that the scenic route might have been nice she had set off in her Aston Martin DB11, the engine purring smoothly as she exited the busily populated city blocks. And now here she was a day and a half later, winding along a road that was not going in the direction the map indicated she should be going. It was beautiful, she admitted – the sunset painted the fields to either side of her awash with purple light. But she was getting agitated after being on the road so long and couldn’t wait to get where she was supposed to be. Fingers tapping angrily on the steering wheel, she pressed on the gas and shot down the smooth dirt road.

'FREDDIES FISH FRY AND BAR' the neon sign caught her attention from its position a little way off the road. It was a seedy little place, burly men smoking near the entrance eyed the car as it slowed down. Fiona debated whether it was worth her time when she had a perfectly fine GPS system built into her car. She stared at the blank screen set into her dashboard for several moments, chewing the inside of her lip. Stubbornness and an urge for something fried to eat won out in the end and she parked in the corner before fixing her sunglasses to her face and purse in hand she got out. Whoever the men were expecting to get out the muscled, tinted car she could tell it wasn’t her. She scanned over them with divination and was met with confusion…a woman…bar at night…alone…expensive car. She sneered. Of course these little town men would have _that_ particular thought stream about women. She stalked past them into the dimly lit bar. All eyes were instantly drawn to her and silence fell as she click clacked her way on the wooden floor to the counter. She perched on a stool. The bartender was a middle aged man with graying hair.

“Can I help you miss?” He asked her wiping a glass and setting it down under the counter.

“I’ll have a serving of your fish fry to go, a double of whiskey on the rocks and directions to Beacon Hills thank you” she responded, flashing him a wan smile.

“Beacon Hills? You are some distance away” The man responded rummaging under the counter and pulling out a map. He opened it and Fiona could see that he had penned in some alterations with a marker.

“You came from Los Angeles?” Fiona was instantly on guard but nodded with narrowed eyes.

“I thought so, see this road here – it was blocked off and redone, curving all the way around to here which would have left you with the road leading here as the only way to go. If you had taken this one at this junction you would have been there by now. Most folks stick to the highway to begin with so they never bothered to change the maps.” Fiona sighed.

“I see” She said in a pinched voice, thanking the bartender as he poured her the whiskey and went into the back to fry the fish. Fiona tipped the glass back, the amber liquid leaving a pleasant burn in her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to feel particularly angry, the drive here was quite peaceful. No sooner had the thought left her mind that her magic picked up a malicious presence approaching her from behind. A man leaned onto the counter next to her. Too close. Leering. Fiona didn’t need to smell the rum off of him to know he was drunk.

“Hello there little lady. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink and maybe show you a good time tonight?” Fiona could hear wolf whistles and cheering coming from the largest group in the corner of the bar. She felt the beginnings of anger heat up in her stomach. This man had no idea what he was coming into contact with.

“Ill pass” her voice was deadly, she turned away from him.

“Now don’t play hard to get you little bitch” he grabbed her arm and yanked her around – and SLAM! went his head into bar counter with the barest flick of Fiona’s mind.

CRACK! The sound was soothing to Fiona’s ears as the man crumpled to a heap at her feet. Blood was rapidly pooling around him and she idly wondered if he was alive. Another mental flick and the man skidded across the floor in a bloody streak, slamming heavily into the table of his _lovely gentlemen friends_ , hard enough to knock the table over and send bottles crashing to the floor. The men jumped to their feet and started spouting stuttered words that Fiona couldn’t be less concerned about. She finished her drink in one swallow and the bartender was back – handing her a plastic bag with a hot Styrofoam box.

“Here you go mi- what the fuck happened there?” The man gaped at the commotion and crowd that had gathered in the far end at the bar.

“Bar fight” she said sympathetically, slipping a 100 out of her purse and pushing with one finger across the counter – compensation for the mess she had made.

“Thank you for the help” and she strode out the door, smirking at the confused, drunken squalor that was gaining intensity. Her Aston’s engine started with a silent purr and with a smooth U Turn she was driving into the night. Now that she knew where to go, Fiona floored it and was hurtling through the night, scenery blurring.

The fish fry was delicious, she thought eating it with one hand – the other on the steering wheel. Divination allowed her mind to slightly wonder as she sped down the abandoned road. She hadn't had this much time left with her own thoughts for quite some years now. She was always surrounded. By the rich, the famous and the powerful. Her nights were spent partying, drinking and sleeping around with beautiful men and women. Fiona Goode was always high in some form or the other. And now she was sober and alone, memories and thoughts pulsing through her mind like lightning streaking through the sky. She thought of Cordelia who was always so desperate to please. She thought of the coven that had withered under her negligence and continued absence. She thought of Stevie and how nice it would have been if it was the two of them here together under the moonlight, driving down the country road. And mostly - she thought of Claudia. Was this a mistake? She hadn’t seen or communicated with Claudia for 16 years. What would she even say? That she was just passing through? Fiona wished she had thought it out sooner, because here she was. She slowed down to a stop.

WELCOME TO BEACON HILLS the sign read. Lights glimmered ahead in a much larger than she had anticipated quantity. But more than that…the place felt wrong, the air charged with something she couldn’t quite put a name to, the energy conflicted and shifting. She frowned. There was more to this place than met the eye. Mind set to use that as a cover story she drove off into town, letting her magic lead her through the junctions and sections, searching for the address that she dimly remembered was printed on every post card every year.

Beacon Hills wasn’t that bad, Fiona conceded looking at the expensive houses as she coasted around. The town was built into and stretched through the forest it seemed, the two coexisting and blending seamlessly together and as such trees were everywhere and concrete paths led into the actual forest where more houses were – secluded from the others. Modern buildings and streetlights were everywhere – all in all, quite quaint. While she could not see herself living in such a place – more ideally suited to being at the heart of things, she could however, see Claudia who was always more suited to the quietness of nature, living here.

129 Woodbine Lane. The house was nice enough. Not much but adequate. It was in the less populated part of the town, where the houses were far and few and the back of it opened out into the forest. Fiona parked and shut of the engine. She hesitated for the briefest of moments before getting out and striding to the front door. Better to get it over with and done, Claudia might be happy to see her or she might slam the door in her face, who knew? She rang the doorbell. Some shuffling a few minutes later and the door opened.

'Jesus Christ' Fiona thought, wrinkling her nose in disgust, how many drunken men would she have to deal with before the night was out.

“I must have the wrong address” she said coldly “I’m looking for a woman named Claudia” The man’s face contorted.

“You must be fucking kidding me” he slurred and tried to slam the door. Fiona caught it and as her hand touched the woods images flashed through her mind. So fast. So much. She saw her sister – so she was at the right address- and a younger version of the man before her. They were laughing as the unpacked moving boxes, light streaming through the curtain-less windows. She saw a little boy with a mop of soaking wet untidy hair running through the furnished house, Claudia behind him with a towel in her hand trying to catch him. The images sped by in a blur before refocusing– she saw the boy, grown now, trying to take a bottle of Jack from the man who was dressed in a sheriffs’ uniform, with a roar the man slammed his fist into the boys stomach and as he doubled over on the floor kicked his steel toed boot into his side. Fiona resurfaced, shaken.

“Let go of my fucking door!” the man yelled in her face, pushing harder. Fiona slammed him across the room. Hard. He sailed through the air. CRASH! Down came the china cabinet he was thrown into, pinning his unconscious body to the floor. She stared at him in disgust; he dared to lay a hand on her nephew? On a boy? His own son? Fiona was by no means a stellar parent, being hardly in her daughter’s life to begin with. But with that being said she had no consideration or respect for anyone who would harm their own child. What the hell was going on in this house? and where was her sister? Claudia would have never allowed her child - any child really - to be harmed under her care. She needed a drink. She made her way past the man - John was the name she recalled - to where she assumed the kitchen was – it was. She rummaged around, scrunching her nose at the amount of empty bottles but none with any contents. The fridge had some cheap beer and several bottles of water. The cupboard had some old dusty cans of processed food. She slammed the door. How was the two of them surviving in this place? _Two_ … Fiona straightened. Where was the boy? She let her power flow, searching the house. He was in the living room, her lips twitched – a baseball bat against the Supreme of the witches, that would’ve ended spectacularly. She spun around and clacked across the tiles of the kitchen back into the living room. Baseball ball upright, her nephew looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Ah! You must be little Mieczyslaw” no response. Or any movement really.

“My name is Fiona Goode" she raised her hand and the front door slammed shut. His eyes widened. "Do take a seat nephew; we have lots to catch up on"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fiona is amazing isn't she? What do you think of my update lengths? Should I make them longer? What would better suit you?


	4. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles learns of his heritage. Fiona discovers her sister's death and the shit show that has been going on in Beacon Hills and takes immediate action.

Stiles stared at the woman. He still hadn’t moved a muscle. The woman – Fiona she said her name sat delicately on the armchair by the unlit fireplace. She crossed her legs and reclined, looking at him expectantly. Stiles supposed that if she was here to hurt him she would have probably done it by now, she definitely had the means to do it - his eyes flicked over to his father who was still unresponsive under the capsized cabinet. He looked dead, maybe he was. Stiles hated himself for the rush of satisfaction the thought brought him. He turned his attention back to Fiona who was still silently observing him. He did the smart thing and set down the bat shuffling over to end of the sofa and perching on the seat closest to the door – an action that probably wouldn’t do much to help him if things went sour but was reassuring none the less. Fiona's gaze didn't waver.

After a beat of silence she spoke -

“I would assume you have some questions for me?” there was the barest trace of humor there and for some reason that helped to calm Stiles down. He relaxed ever slightly and once more his eyes flicked back to the cabinet and then to her.

“Ah _that_. He pushed my patience i'm afraid – that's almost always guaranteed to have a bad outcome” she said blandly, reaching into her handbag and extracting a pack of cigarettes.

“How did you do that?” Stiles blurted out. He had a feeling that Fiona wouldn’t elaborate on anything unless he inquired. “He was flung into that cabinet hard, I heard it from upstairs, that thing with the door too”

“Telekinesis. One of my favorites, although concilium is a close second” Stiles didn’t understand what “one of my favorites” was referring to, nor "concilium" but he had gotten enough to know Fiona wasn’t human.

“What are you?” he asked sharply, on guard again, hand reaching to his bat. Fiona laughed at the movement, dangling the unlit cigarette between her fingers.

“Surely Claudia has told you all about me, about our people – i'd understand if you weren’t one of us but I can clearly sense you are” Stiles went rigid at the mention of his mother but Fiona hadn’t noticed, her eyes busy scanning around the room.

“Where is my sister in any case?” Sister. Stiles thought back to just a few moments earlier when the woman had called him her nephew. So he had a aunt he knew anything about, which wasn’t particularly surprising – his father refused to talk about anything relating to his mother and even went as far to lock all her items and pictures away in his storage locker. Stiles hated to be the bearer of bad news, but with a close eye on his aunts face –

“She’s been dead for 10 years.” Fiona’s head froze from her survey of the room. Seconds that felt like an eternity stretched on and then she slowly closed her eyes – a pained expression crossing her features. She leaned back bodily into the chair.

“I should have known from the year I stopped getting those tacky postcards at Christmas” Her voice didn’t shake. She fixed him with a somber look

“Ten years later and here I am, sitting with her abused son" Stiles flinched, his mind going into overdrive

“- who doesn’t have the first clue to what he is and his drunk of a father who was doing the abuse”

She let out a bitter chuckle “Good job Fiona”

“What do you mean what I am?” Stiles asked heatedly

“You are what I am, what your mother was – a witch”

It was Stiles turn to laugh. “What are you even talking about? My mom was human. A normal mom with a normal life. She had a normal family that she often told me about – she never mentioned you by the way –and the same goes for me!” Stiles voice had risen in intensity and he had stood, pointing to himself with his last exclamation. His natural instincts screamed at him that getting angry with this woman was not the best course of action, but he couldn't help it. If what she was saying was true then Stiles wasn't Stiles anymore, a stranger to his own self.

Fiona rolled her eyes – any trace of sadness already gone. She dragged the hand holding the cigarette through the air and the fireplace roared to life. Stiles stared wide eyed. Then he silently sat back down.

“Now that I have your attention” Fiona took a drag and exhaled. “There is much to explain about the worlds hidden around you”

Stiles laughed hysterically “Werewolves, dark spirits, druids, even fucking hunters. Now you're telling me witches exist too and my whole life was a lie” his laughter turned into high pitched gasps and suddenly he was crying.

"Werewolves? Druids- what are you talking about?” Fiona sat up staring at the convulsing boy.

“Don’t you know where you are?” Stiles spat bitterly

“Welcome to Beacon Hills home of the freak show and the rest of the fucking circus” He hiccuped softly to himself, rocking back and forth. How much more? What else would he have to go through? When would it end? Silence filled the room with the exception of the crackling of the fire and occasional hiccup. Fiona was Incredibly confused yet not at the same time. She knew something was wrong the moment she entered this town. So much bad energy –it seeped into everything. She looked at the boy who was shivering on the couch despite the lit fireplace. He was too small for 16- clothes hanging loosely, and she was almost certain that shade of white only belonged on corpses. Fiona had seen a lot of corpses, she should know.

“Mieczyslaw-” God that was a mouthful

“Stiles” the boy rasped out, not looking at her “Everyone calls me Stiles”

“Stiles” Fiona amended “Maybe you would like to tell me whats going on?”

He laughed hoarsely “You wouldn’t believe me even if I did”

Fiona drew herself up and did the closest thing to a kind smile she was capable of.

“I’m the Queen of the witches, you’d be surprised just how much I would believe you” He did look at her then, with calculating eyes and trembling lips.

“It’s... a long story”

Fiona settled into the armchair and swept her hand as though to say “go ahead”

Stiles hesitated, frozen still for a few beats of silence before he hesitantly started to speak

“It all started when half of a body was found in the woods…”

* * *

Several hours later Fiona had a headache. She tapped her fingers on the chair arm and studied the boy sitting opposite her. He was nervous, she could plainly see but so obviously relieved. The words had tumbled out of his mouth at top speed, Fiona could only guess at how long they had boiled in him with no outlet, no one to talk to. And now that he had he was waiting for her to turn tails and flee like any sane normal person. Fiona didn’t consider herself particularly sane and was most definitely not of the norm. She was also not a trusting individual, employing subtle divination the throughout the entire story – he was clean.

“I believe you” she said. No long empathetic sentence was needed. His shoulders sagged in relief.

“So to sum up - this town is overrun with an abundance of supernatural creatures, most of them teenagers and bloodthirsty, the only alpha is an egotistical teen boy who values morals over the safety of those around him but has no problem poking his nose where it doesn’t belong, there are hunters and assassins roaming around, people are dying, there is a mystical tree that is acting a metal detector for more supernatural beings to come join the circus, there are three masked powerful individuals that are going around turning people into abominations then killing them off when they start to self destruct, and this Theo person is obviously working with them or has a whole other agenda of his own and wants you dead before you fuck up whatever his plan is”

Fiona took a deep breath. “And all of this is not even covering the events that place before now – dark spirits, alpha packs, rogue alpha’s, vengeful druids and whatnot” Stiles nodded slowly, looking at her blank face.

Fiona’s mind was spinning with half formed plans and calculations. The boy couldn’t stay here, not only was he a witch – warlock, whatever, who cares? – but he was her only nephew and family as well. He was Claudia's boy and dam. her if she was the Supreme and couldn't keep one boy safe. Mind set on that as the first task she stood up abruptly, Stiles scrambling to do the same. She looked him evenly in the eye, rolling her words around mentally to find the right way to convey the urgency of the matter to him.

“You aren’t safe here. Your friends have all abandoned you. Your father is more harmful to you than good. There are dangerous creatures everywhere – the majority of which wants you dead.” She paused to let her words sink in before continuing –

“You are a witch – a witch belongs with other witches standing united as one coven. There is such a place. An academy. _The_ academy. Its typically inhabited by all girls but as Family to the supreme and the current headmistress who is your cousin, you will be an exception. The choice is yours”

There was no hesitation when he spoke “There is nothing left for me here”

Fiona smiled. “Pack only what you need, you will be able to replace everything once we leave from here” and with a nod he had disappeared upstairs. She then turned her attention to the man trapped beneath the cabinet. Perfect position she thought. She looked around the room once more – it had bothered her since she came in that there was no pictures of Claudia, no family portrait, the place seemed bleak without any. But in a way it was quite ideal since it would make what she was about to do that much easier. Stiles returned downstairs, panting slightly and clutching a small duffel bag. Fiona couldn’t wait to take him shopping – it was one of the only things Cordelia and her ever truly bonded over. The boy looked over to his father.

“What happens to _him_?” he said voice cracking. Fiona studied him as he looked upon the man with barely concealed fear. No, she thought - he would not object at all. She walked over to him, placing a hand gently over his injured side, he trembled beneath her touch.

“In our coven there is a law" she whispered "Anyone who causes grievous harm to another witch must be burned at the stake.”

She watched his reaction carefully – there was no hesitance, no cloud of doubt or revulsion. Fiona smiled again, he would be a nice addition to their coven - the type of mettle they needed.

“Where do we find a stake?” he asked innocently and Fiona laughed, moving away from him.

“Well your injury isn’t what we’d call grievous and this cabinet isn’t what we’d call a stake but who is here to tell either apart?” she replied in dulcet tones. She focused her magic at the man and with a groan he stirred, eyes blinking blearily open.

“What the – HEY WHAT THE” he pulled desperately but it was no use. He was securely pinned. He looked up and froze at the sight of her.

“You” He growled and then his gaze flicked behind her and he started to struggle again.

“STILES! Why are you just standing there? Get me out of here!” He wheezed and panted as he pulled and shimmied. What a horrendous way to die Fiona thought idly – pinned like a pig.

“John Stilinski you are charged with causing grievous harm to our brother warlock Stiles Stilinksi. In the place of the council, I – Fiona Goode the reigning Supreme, hereby sentence you to death by fire. Any last words?” The words felt delicious rolling smoothly off her tongue.

“I SHOULD HAVE BROKEN EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY YOU FUCKING BRAT” he screamed past her.

She heard Stiles inhale sharply and anger laced through her. She lashed out and the cabinet exploded into a blazing inferno – towering up, up. His screams sent pleasurable tingles down her spine. She turned and stalked out the front door, Stiles right behind her. They got into her Aston and then they were gone speeding into the night. In the rear-view mirror the fire – enhanced by Fiona’s magic – had engulfed the entire house, transforming it into a giant ball of flame and heat. She glanced over at Stiles expecting him to be shaken up, after all his entire life had just been uprooted and was quite literally up in flames. But Stiles was the most relaxed he had been in the short while that Fiona had known him, staring into the rear-view mirror with the smallest of smiles. Fiona decided that she and her nephew would get along just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the adventure begins. What do you guys think of this installment?


	5. The Coven of New Orleans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles arrives to his new life in New Orleans and meets his new Family.

Concilium was quite literally mind blowing, Stiles thought as he watched Fiona “convince” the airline manager to cancel two first Class passengers’ tickets and instead give it to them. Stiles had never been on a plane before and never in first class anything and as a result felt extremely out of place. Fiona on the other hand fit right in as though she was made for luxury – which Stiles assumed that as the Supreme, that might be not be a stretch of the truth. He still wasn’t sure what being the Supreme even meant apart from the name itself being an indicator. He knew nothing about witches or covens or witchcraft, wasn’t even sure if this coven they were heading to would like him. Maybe it would be worse than Beacon Hills, Stiles swallowed hard – wouldn’t that be just his luck?

As the plane took off on its three hour flight to New Orleans – a place that he coincidentally had always wanted to visit, Stiles looked over hesitantly to Fiona, who was staring out the window somberly. They were the only people in first class – not a lot of people travelling expensively at 3 in the morning by plane in what could be done by car or coach. _Car_. Stiles wondered what would happen to Fiona’s Aston that had been left in the parking garage of the airport. When he asked her she had responded cryptically that it would be taken care of. Stiles thought no more about it. He instead focused on the overwhelming relief that was resonating through him. He had gotten out. No more Scott. No more werewolves. No more researching like a slave trying to help people who didn’t even give two shits about him. No more sneaking around like a ghost around his house trying to avoid adding another bruise to his collection. No he thought. New Orleans can’t possibly be worse.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Eat perhaps?” The flight attendant was coated in flawless makeup and a fake smile – Stiles thought that having to smile everyday all the time was quite an ordeal. Fiona turned from bout of staring.

“Two double of whiskey on the rock, a grilled cheese sandwich and an ice cream Sunday. And whatever my nephew would like.” The flight attendant’s eyes widened ever slightly at the large order, but the smile never faltered.

“Of course ma’am” she then turned to him “What can I get you?”

Stiles supposed that since the legal drinking age was 21 and he was 16 he was supposed to order a soda or something bland like that but at the point he couldn’t be bothered.

“A triple shot of Black Label – straight, thank you”

“May I see some ID, the airline is governed expressly by the laws of California which sta-” Fiona waved her hand at the woman.

“Coming right up” she turned and left. Stiles supposed now was a good time as ever to ask her. “

How do you do that? Is it actual mind control? You mentioned it was one of your “favorites”. And what exactly is a “Supreme”?” The words bubbled off his tongue. Fiona laughed lightly.

“I was wondering when you’d start finally start asking your questions. It was like watching a kettle boil. To answer your questions however – Concilium is the art of using magic to sway another living being’s will to your own. Forcing them to subject. It is one of the Highly Advanced branches of magic known as the Seven Wonders- the most powerful of all the gifts. Witches are born with inclination towards these gifts – some as little as one, some as high as six. The more branches you show an aptitude for, the stronger your magic is.” Fiona paused and flashed an exotic smile, tipping her head back onto the headrest and staring up wistfully.

“And in every generation” she said softly, reverently . “There is a witch who masters all Seven. She is the living embodiment of magic – her power passed down from her predecessor to her, for there can be only one at a time.” Fiona turned her soft gaze to his.

“This girl is the Supreme.; the strongest witch and the Ruler of the Coven.” Stiles swallowed nervously.

“What are the other seven wonders?” he asked.

“Well you’ve seen telekinesis and Concilium in play already. There is Divination – the ability to perceive knowledge and intuition through magic. You can tell when someone is lying, what their intentions are, the very history of something or someone simply by touch – and through mastery even by looking. Pyrokinesis is the ability to set things ablaze and control of fire – you have also seen that come to think of it” Fiona chuckled and Stiles flashed back to how quickly the entire house had been up in flames.

“Transmutation is in simple terms teleportation” he perked up at that, mind flashing with all the possibilities.

“Decensum is the ability to astral project – traveling into the Netherlands and infiltrating the dreams of others. It requires extreme mental focus and if unable to return the physical body perishes to dust and the soul remains untethered for the rest of eternity” What the actual fuck?

“and finally Vitalum Vitalis – the balancing of the scales of life and death, controlling the flow of life energy. It can resurrect the dead and kill the living without much fuss although it is typically used for the former and can end up killing the caster from over exertion or over reaching.” Stiles eyes widened.

“Resurrect the dead?” He exclaimed – loudly.

“Lower your voice. Jesus. Fiona said glancing around.

“Sorry sorry, but resurrect the dead?” stiles continued in a whisper.

“Yes, considering the corpse isn’t completely destroyed or decayed. That can result in… complications. In a case like that – resurgence, an extremely powerful gift can be used to regenerate and restore to some extent. Unfortunately such a gift hasn’t been seen in over 100 years. More myth than anything”

Stiles nodded dumbly, mind reeling from the information. The flight attendant returned at that moment, placing down the tray and vanishing just as fast. Stiles was grateful for the burn in his throat as he sipped his drink and the distraction it provided him to be able to think. Raising the dead. Teleportation. Mind control. Compared to that werewolves seemed almost tame. And Stiles… was scared. More than ever he thought that this might just be a big mistake. What if he wasn’t as powerful as the others? What is he couldn’t do what was expected of him? What is they rejected him just like the others. But there was no turning back now.

The remainder of the three hours was filled with more questions by him and answers by Fiona. He waited for Fiona to become angry with all the questions he was asking – people always did, but instead she seemed to get more enthusiastic as they delved deeper into the history of Witchcraft. Stiles learned that he was a descendant of Salem, that voodoo was a real thing and a big deal where he was heading -

“We leave them on their side of town and they leave us. Voodoo and Witchcraft don’t mix they never have” Fiona was very clear on that – he learned that he wouldn’t as a matter of fact be the only male in the academy, since his cousin Cordelia was married and her husband Hank lived there. Stiles got the feeling that Fiona didn’t like Hank very much, if the sneer in her voice was any indicator as she spoke his name. and before he knew it they were landing and were departing, Fiona led the way to where a black tinted sedan was waiting –an albino man in a tuxedo and dark shades stood by it. He silently opened the back door and then they were off.

“The albinos are special handymen of our coven. They serve the council and the supreme in any way they are able” Fiona said in response to Stiles silent question. If the man – who was driving- heard, he expressed no reaction. But Stiles was paying to mind to that – he was freaking out. Here he was in another state, no money, no way back even if he wanted to which he didn’t, and it was all moving so fast. He started to count, tapping his fingers one at a time and mouthing the numbers, oblivious to the concerned look Fiona was observing him with.

* * *

MISS ROBICHAUX’s ACADEMY was beautiful. A huge white Victorian mansion and for a second Stiles felt his worry slip away as he stared at the imposing structure. He grabbed his bag and jumped out the car behind Fiona who was already past the gate and up the smooth walkway. As he passed the gate it slammed close with a soft creak. Whether it was Fiona or something else Stiles never found out as he entered the hallway and there they were. They were obviously waiting for him, sitting on the grand staircase, in the middle of some discussion about someone named Luke, that came to a halt as Stiles and Fiona walked in. A woman stood and stiles immediately knew this was his cousin. Her hair was the same as Fiona’s, same eyes, same features. She didn’t look particularly pleased as she woodenly kissed Fiona’s cheek with a small-

“Hello mother” Then her gaze was on him and Stiles braced himself. But it was for nothing as her expression melted and she pulled him into a hug. She smelt fresh – like rain and trees.

“I’m so glad you are here” she pulled back, holding his shoulders at arm length and fixed him with the kindest smile Stiles has gotten for the longest time. Stiles felt the tension in himself loosen up and uncoil.

“Let me introduce you to your new family. Girls! Give Stiles here a warm welcome” Stiles flushed as the girls stood and came over. “I'm Madison Montgomery” The blond girl was the first to walk over, reeking of self importance. She was beautiful Stiles thought, but calculating as well, her smile not quite reaching her eyes but for some reason Stiles thought that wasn’t due to his part.

“You might have heard about me” she continued flicking her hair “I'm a movie star, most famous for my role on- “

“Move you dumb bitch” Madison was unceremoniously pushed past by a heavy set black girl, whose smile was definitely genuine this time.

“I'm Queenie, don’t mind her, she’s on withdrawal symptoms from fame after being stuck here with us who don’t give two shits about who she had to blow to get where she was” Madison huffed and turned away to go back her position on the stairs, but not before Stiles got a glimpse of her hidden smile.

“I'm Misty Day, very pleased to meet you” Misty was country, with bouncy golden locks and a personality that was so pure that Stiles knew that he liked her already. She smiled at him and twirled on her knee high country boots – shawl flinging about her before rejoining Madison on the stairs.

“I'm Nan” the short girl with thick words held out her hand and Stiles was about to shake it when someone yanked it back.

“You don’t want to do that” the girl’s voice was soft and came from behind him. _Transmutation_ Stiles thought numbly.

"Nan here is clairvoyant, she will be able to see things you’d rather she didn’t see.” She released his hand and stepped back.

"I'm Zoe" She had long straight hazel brown hair and a face that was almost as pale as his. Stiles thought she looked like she was in a trance, her eyes misty as she smiled at him. It looked strangely natural on her though.

“You are hardly one to talk about uncontrolled powers, Miss death vagina” Nan spat without venom at her . _Death vagina_ stiles thought perturbed. Zoe opened her mouth, probably to say something very unflattering when –

“If you girls are done” Fiona sounded supremely unimpressed. All heads snapped towards her and Cordelia.

“Have dinner prepared while I show him to a room and help him settle in” Fiona said airily as she walked through the girls and up the stairs, Stiles moved to follow her.

“Why are you giving orders?” Madison asked snobbishly. Fiona paused on the landing where the stairs split to either side going up, light streamed from the window behind her as she looked down on all of them.

“She’s the supreme” Nan said, walking away from the group and through a side door. Madison’s eyes widened almost comically and she spun around to Cordelia.

“You didn’t tell us your mother that was coming for a “ short visit” was _the Supreme_ ” She hissed quietly, eyes darting up nervously at Fiona who wore a smug smile. Shaking her head bemusedly she turned to the left and continued up the second floor. Stiles followed her once more.

“I think I’m going to like it here” he thought. And for the first time in quite a while, he felt a small smile bloom on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The witches are here. What do you guys think of them? Stiles has finally met the people that he needed to meet all along.


	6. The Coven Visuals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's what the mansion and the girls look like for those that never watched American Horror Story.

Fiona Goode

Stiles after his stay at the academy

Cordelia 

Zoe (left) Nan (middle) Madison (right)

Queenie

Misty Day (left) Stevie Nicks (right)

The front of Miss Robichaux's Academy

The dining room

The grand staircase

The back of the mansion

The front gate (my version)

The entry hallway

The Supreme's bedroom

The greenhouse/potions lab


	7. Regression to the mean.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has settled in with his new family and slowly the trauma of Beacon Hills is fading away. However an unexpected attack on the coven leaves the witches reeling and Fiona declares war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me forever to update. But I went through several drafts trying to pick the right story line to go with and I wanted to experiment with multiple POV chapters to make the update lengths longer. I hope you guys like it.

Stiles awoke to the sun filtering through the thin curtains of his bedroom. He stretched, catlike, joints popping and back arching off his bed. A movement which resulted in an elbow shoved in his Rib to his right and grumbling to his left.

“Ouch” he said with faux offence to which Madison muttered something that was definitely unrepentant and involved him shoving certain body parts to quite unreachable places.

“It’s way too early” Zoe said sleepily, turning her back to him and curling around her – his actually – pillow.

“It’s actually 9:15” a dry voice came from the doorway. Stiles flashed a toothy grin at his cousin who was impeccably dressed as usual and transmuted to her side.

“Morning Delia” he pecked her cheek.

“Morning breath” she said fondly, watching as he slipped across the hall to the bathroom to grab his tooth brush.

“You three stayed up all night researching again?” she said disapprovingly

“While the dedication is quite commendable, facing her sleep deprived will not do you much good”

“ughn ughn ughn ughnn” Stiles said mouth full of toothpaste. He spat and rinsed.

“Facing her unprepared will not do much good either” He rolled his shoulders, still sore from yesterday. Fiona had taken to training them – learning them to be “true women – and the one man” – of their coven”. According to her, a real witch should not only be able to defend themselves, but to destroy the threat as well. And so every week day at 10 am, their training began in one of the many vacant rooms of the house which was now equipped with yoga mats and a bookcase among other things. Fiona had filled it up with countless books. Stiles stripped unashamedly in front of Cordelia and hopped into the shower, rinsing as quick as he could.

“You two are going to be late” he called out cheerfully to the two girls sprawled under the blanket as he stepped into his closet.

“Oh my God why didn’t you wake us?-

“STILES I'M GOING TO KILL YOU-

“THAT’S MY HAIR OWWW-

“GET OFF ME-

Thud!

The sound of them falling to the floor and then scrambling into the bathroom had Stiles laughing all the way downstairs. Cordelia had long since disappeared – probably to the greenhouse where she always seemed to be these days since her husband had left for a work trip. Stiles was glad - a view he kept to himself- that Hank wasn't around. Something was quite unsettling about him and he had come to sympathize with Fiona's intense dislike of the man. He grabbed an apple since he missed breakfast and wandered down the halls to the training room. Queenie and Nan were already there, sitting on the window seat. And there was Fiona – sat on the Table and chair she had put in the corner, sipping a cup of tea. She raised her cup to him as he went over to the girls. He smiled – wide and toothy at her.

“Morning” he said, unceremoniously wedging himself between them.

* * *

Fiona had forgotten how peaceful the academy was. Quite beautiful too – big spacious white rooms, long graceful windows and antique vintage furniture. It was luxurious. She was quite glad she wasn’t here to kill anyone – it would’ve put quite the damper on the whole experience. She untangled herself from her silk sheets and stood stretching. The fireplace directly opposite her bed had long since burned low and was replaced by light filtering through the windows on either side of it. Sighing contentedly, she walked into the adjoining bathroom and filled the tub with hot water and perfumed solution. She undressed and slipped in.

It had been quite the three months, she thought lying against the marble contently. It was also the longest she had ever stayed in the academy since her ascension to Supreme. Anna Leigh would have been disgusted. ‘A Supreme’s duty was to her coven - to train and educate her witches and ensure their general well being. Defend them when necessary.’ Fiona could hear her eloquent tones even after all these years. She had gotten some parts right – training them everyday on the art of witchcraft and their history. This had come about largely due to Stiles – Fiona had been planning to leave later the next day after seeing him completely settled in, she owed him that much after all - but the next day as they were all at morning seminar where her daughter was talking about how their ancestors often had to defend themselves against various enemies, Stiles had asked her if she could give a demonstration. Cordelia had blushed ever slightly and said she didn’t think it was quite appropriate and Stiles – who knew exactly what he was doing – had turned to _her_ with a pleading look. Always one to put on a show Fiona had levitated the knives from the dining table and had them moving in uniform movements.

“Your powers can be used for more than the obvious. Think outside the box” and with that she had sent the spinning circle of knives into the wood of the fire place.

Thunk!

Thunk!

Thunk!

They were in a perfect line.

“You need to show me how to do that” Madison had said breathlessly – telekinesis being her strongest gift. And so it started – and Fiona found she enjoyed teaching people eager to learn. Three months later here they were – her coven stronger, happier and more united than ever. Even Cordelia had given in, sitting in the corner of the room with her, enraptured by the power her kids portrayed. And my were they powerful. As the Supreme she was a master of Divination and as such was able to perceive the gifts of other witches just by being near to them –

Queenie was a human voodoo doll – any injury she made on herself, she could transfer to someone else with no damage to her body. It was amazing. And to top it off she possessed the power level for four of the seven wonders.

Along with the powers of three of the seven, Nan was clairvoyant. She knew things that she shouldn’t possibly know just by being in a place or around a person; she could hear thoughts and perceive a person’s entire life history if they weren’t warded against her – and very few worked on such a powerful gift. Fiona was glad she was capable of casting all of them.

Misty Day was a miracle in herself. She possessed the power of… resurgence. Fiona had outright refused to believe it. That is until she looked into the girl’s mind and saw that she was burned at the stake by hunters only weeks ago. And she had resurrected herself! Burned and charred she had slowly healed and regenerated herself until here she stood – glowing, beautiful and capable of three of the seven wonders. Fiona wasn’t surprised – the power required for resurgence didn’t leave room for much else to manifest.

And then there was those three. Stiles, Zoe and Madison. Fiona lifted her foot out the water and rested it on the lid of the tub. Zoe was the only one of them with an innate gift – a rather peculiar one at that – Black Widow. Simply put it was the ability to kill someone by having sex with them. Poor girl. Fiona could be able to teach her how to turn it off and on but Zoe had seemed scared at the possibility of her killing someone else by accident. Ugh -Fiona had to work on the girl's self preservation instincts. But along with the other two – Zoe possessed the power to perform five! of the seven wonders. While that is not unheard of in witches, for a boy…

Fiona rose from the tub gracefully. It was curious and she hoped to get to the bottom of it sooner rather than later. However the question of his powers aside, she marveled at the change that had come over him during his short stay at the academy. It hadn’t been easy at first – he had been mistrustful of everyone and seemed on edge all the time – for which Fiona didn’t blame him after the betrayal and hell he had suffered in Beacon Hills. But slowly – he had slipped into a state of ease, the girls all doing their part to break him out of his mental prison. Fiona couldn’t recall the last time she had seen witches worked so in sync for an unselfish reason. Even Madison – a total bitch that Fiona may or may not have been like at that age, was softer around Stiles, more bark than bite. Fiona didn’t know what to make of it.

She stepped into her closet and ran her hand through the soft expensive materials. A satin sash she had picked up when she had taken Stiles – and the rest of the coven – shopping was particularly nice feeling. Fiona smiled fondly – though she would never admit it – at the memory. It had been one month since they had arrived at the academy and Fiona had them researching and compiling information, meditating to stretch their cores and be in tune with their power. Jumping into practical activities without foreknowledge – doing anything without foreknowledge really – would only end in destruction and possible maiming. Thinking that they were fairly ready, she had walked into Queenie’s room that night, where they were all huddled up around some book “borrowed” from Cordelia’s collection and announced they were going shopping for workout clothes and other things”

Madison was practically bouncing as she grabbed her purse and skipped downstairs, the others more skeptical as they weren’t exactly working or rich as Madison. Fiona had just smiled, pulling out her black MasterCard from her purse.

“Well damn” Queenie had said after blinking several times “You’re RICH rich”

That night had been quite nice. Fiona had taken them to the most expensive labels around the city, advising them on what was acceptable to wear in what situation, which colors best suited them (mostly black with other dark shades), how to treat the snobby salesperson who did a complete 180 at the sight of her card and she had helped them build their own aesthetics. Several hours later and more bags than they could carry, they had returned laughing to the mansion. The following two months were devoid of laughter however as she worked them hard. She was never one to coddle anyone and that hadn’t changed. Her kids – when had she started referring to them as her kids? – didn’t complain however, they leaned into it, pushing back as hard she she was throwing. Not only did they now know the basics of the gifts they had, they had also come so far with their primary gifts;

Madison could control a dozen objects in uniform sync now, Zoe could transmute several people and herself with pinpoint accuracy, Queenie could transfer injuries to more than person at a time, Nan could control whether she wanted to read someone’s mind or not instead of being open to it all times – Fiona had been roughly tackled with a hug at this – and Misty had pushed the boundaries of her divination and resurgence. She was quite shocked to know that not only could she resurrect a body from its ashes but she could also heal living persons of illnesses too.

Jesus Christ Fiona thought. Literally.

Fiona had expected to grow bored of these teens quite quickly. She had instead grown quite fond of them instead.

“You have become quite a sap” she muttered to herself, shaking her head and slipping into a standard black dress and skipping the leggings. She poured a cup of coffee for herself in the kitchen and went to the training room. Fifteen minutes later, Queenie’s group came in with a chorus of “Good morning’s” and sat by the window talking quietly among themselves about how their new neighbor Joan was such a presumptuous bitch. Fiona was inclined to agree – Christians she found were the biggest hypocrites and Joanne was no exception. Madison had almost pinned her with a kitchen knife upon visiting the house to “introduce herself” to the woman’s handsome, backed up son who it was discovered wasn’t allowed any technology or fraternizing with the opposite sex “lest he be smote with the wrath of God.”

Madison had been more than ready to make up for the things he was missing out on when Joanne appeared brandishing a kitchen knife. Big mistake. Madison had _yanked_ the kitchen knife out her hand, impaling it on the ceiling and on her way out set fire to the curtains. Fiona found the whole thing quite hilarious. Especially when the woman came over to see Fiona, offered her a bible and prayers then threatened to call the police for trespassing the next time one of her “heathen girls” tried to ensnare her son into sinful acts. Backed up was probably an understatement for the nineteen year old boy. Fiona wondered how long it would take Madison to decide to use Concilium on the woman to get her out of the way. Knowing Madison, she’d probably force the woman to watch as she got her son off.

It was at that thought Stiles spun into the room, humming under his breath as he crunched an apple. She raised her cup to him as he went over to the window and he flashed a grin at her – all teeth and dimples. He was a whole new person and Fiona loved it. She glanced at her watch, five more minutes and Madison and Zoe would be late. She sipped her coffee and waited.

Four minutes.

Three minutes.

Stiles and the girls had moved from the window and sat lotus styles on their mats.

Two minutes.

One-

“Are we late? Oh thank God one minute to spare”

Madison’s hair was damp as she dropped down on her mat, Zoe breathless besides her.

“Very nearly” Fiona said drumming her fingers on the rim of her cup. She stood and began the day’s lesson.

* * *

Madison rubbed her aching back as she climbed the stairs. Today had been particularly brutal. They had gone from learning how to use magic to learning how to use it against others and resisting it being used against you. Fiona had the two teams work against each other at first and then she switched it up according to their powers. After successfully resisting Zoe’s mental order to hit herself in the face, She had slumped down on the mat, sweating like a pig. Fiona was sitting expressionless watching them.

“Why aren’t you partaking?” Madison asked rubbing her sides. Fiona had raised an eyebrow.

“Your power levels indicate the target you can take on directly” she had said and gestured at Nan.

“The fact that she only has access to three wonders – the rest of her magic routed to her clairvoyance – means that trying Concilium on any of you will be largely difficult, since you have all trained to be able to block weaker attempts and she doesn't have that much power to push against stronger witches.” It wasn’t said as an insult merely as facts.

“Stiles on the other hand with the magic level of five wonders and no other power to allocate to would be a much more even match. If he was stronger with perhaps six wonders it would have been that much harder on you and easier on him, but not impossible.”

Madison had known all of this already and waited for Fiona to arrive to a point. Fiona leaned forward.

“The Supreme has no such restrictions” Madison blinked, getting up to her feet. The others had stopped what they were doing and had all gathered around to listen. Fiona waved her hand and one of the training knives Madison normally used floated over to Queenie. She took it hesitantly, looking at Fiona with confusion.

“Use your power and try to cut me – a small scratch”

Queenie’s eyes had widened slightly but she did as instructed, running the sharp knife across the back of her hand while looking intently at Fiona.

“SON OF A BITCH!” the knife fell to the floor and Queenie cradled her hand – a long cut on the back of it. Misty immediately stepped over, using her healing powers to close it. Madison’s eyes widened.

“Our powers don’t work on you” she whispered, as realization dawned on her.

“and you won’t be able to stop mine from working on you” Fiona had replied, chuckling and leaning back with a decidedly smug look on her face.

“The Supreme is the Supreme for a reason. Haven’t you ever wondered why there are no two Supreme's at one time? Why the old one must die for the other to live?”

She then gestured for them to sit down.

“The Supreme doesn’t just have a high quantity of magic.” Fiona began quietly -

"She isn’t just a witch that is stronger than the others. She _is_ magic -the living embodiment of it, a vessel for power. Her powers are stronger than any those of any other witch, they can undo any enchantment and the enchantments cast by her can be undone only by her level of power - the supreme level." Fiona paused breifly.

"There are very few creatures on earth that can match that level and none would take the chance of angering her, because you see for all other beings their power belongs solely to them and will die with them when they are killed. The power of the Supreme is given from one host to another and then another after that - an endless line of super powered witches that will come hunting you down for killing one of their own. The Supreme isn’t a threat you can get rid of. It is power that will always exist in the world manifested through different witches - and the thing with power is, it changes you – whether for good or bad I suppose it’s your own personal inclination - but change it does.” She had finished in a whisper. The room had been deathly quiet after that, except for the howling autumn wind outside. There wasn’t much to be said after such a revelation. Fiona had then dismissed them – telling them to take what was left of the afternoon off.

Madison closed her room door softly and slumped on her bed. She was completely exhausted but she didn’t mind. In these past three months she had learned more from Fiona than an entire year under Cordelia. It was nice she thought eyelids drooping and sleep took her.

When she woke up the room was completely dark. She stretched and got up, hoping she hadn’t missed dinner. She was just considering taking a bath when she felt static hiss through the air and a pressure attacked her mind. She fell to the floor, in pain. Electricity hummed through the air and then three silhouettes appeared seemingly out of nowhere. They wore horrifying masks and moved in sync coming closer to her.

“Test subject acquired” The one in the middle said in a robotic, terrifying voice. The figure to his left walked towards her hand extended – Madison screamed and her powers lashed out. Lamps, the fireplace poker, pictures on the walls, everything that could - flew at them. And were all deflected in burst of electricity. The thing was almost to her, hadn’t paused in the slightest, the pressure on her head was causing her ears to ring and her head go light.

Then the door flew open and everyone was there, Fiona at the head of them. A swift slash of her hand and pure magic whipped through the air. Madison watched as the creature that was walking towards her was ripped apart - limbs and head flying to different parts of the room. And then the others was gone, the pressure from her head with them and the night had resumed as thought nothing happened.

Madison whimpered and hand clutched to her mouth held back from screaming again.

“We got you sweetheart. Its okay. They can’t harm you now” Cordelia was there instantly besides her, hugging her close and smoothing her hair. Madison’s body shook but she never made a sound.

“WHAT IN THE HELL WERE THOSE THINGS?” Queenie said looking around the room as thought she expected them to just pop out of thin air. Which they had.

“This feels wrong” Misty said stooping next to the head of the thing. There was no blood.

“This feels evil, corrupted, it shouldn’t exist” Misty continued shaking her head and pulling her shawl more securely around her. Nan and Queenie looked just as confused as Madison felt and Stiles – was looking at Fiona with a horrified look on his face. Not surprised, but horrified. She was looking back at him expressionlessly, her fingers working to her side – the only sign of nervousness.

“They were Dread Doctors” He said hoarsely.

“Dread What?”

“You know what those things are?”

“How do you know what those things are?”

“What did they want?”

Everyone was speaking at once.

“SILENCE” Fiona quieted the room.

“Everyone downstairs to the living room. Now” She and Stiles disappeared from the room. Madison didn’t feel like doing the same - her head still lighter than she would like and elected to walk, the girls following behind her. Downstairs in the living room, Fiona had lit the fireplace and sat by it, Stiles on the chair opposite her.

“Those things that came here are known as dread doctors” she said without preamble once they had all sat down.

“They are old genetically modified superhumans that have been making scientific chimera abomination from supernatural DNA.”

“How do you know this mother?” Cordelia’s voice was ice. She rose from beside Madison in righteous fury.

“That’s why you have been here, isn't it? Why you were training everyone everyday? I knew it from the beginning. You never do anything except for your own selfish reasons. And now you have brought these things here to wreak hav-“

“They were here because of me” Stiles voice was small and all eyes were instantly on him.

“I – what?” Cordelia in confusion slowly sat back down. Stiles was shaking in a way Madison hadn’t seen him do since he had first gotten here.

“They are from my past in Beacon Hills” he said, breathing fast and tears started to fall.

“I don’t know how they followed me or what they would even want with me since I have never been directly in contact with them and if I thought that coming here would’ve brought you danger I never would have and I don’t want to see you in danger I – I shouldn’t be here, if its me they’re hunting I need to go” He stood, half crying the words that were coming so fast and slowly started to back away.

“You aren’t going anywhere” Fiona’s voice was final,her tone exasperated. Stiles opened his mouth probably to protest but Cordelia was already talking –

“Stiles sweetheart, why don’t you sit and explain to us whats going on” he was still breathing hard but he did as she said. Madison felt her heart clench with a fierce desire to protect him. She saw that mirrored on the faces of the other girls. Misty and Zoe went to sit on either side of him, wrapping their hands around his shoulder.

“It would be easier to show you” he mumbled. Madison flashed back to one of the cooler uses of Concilium that Fiona had shown them – the ability to share memories. Stiles gathered himself and then images started to flow gently into her mind.

When it was over she felt nauseous.

“Those bitches” she said standing up.

“They did that to you?” Queenie was up right besides her.

“Fur pelts would be lovely for the upcoming winter” Zoe said wrapping her arms tighter around Stiles. Misty – a known animal lover seemed inclined to agree.

“Settle down this isn’t a harem” Fiona’s words had no bite to them.

“We need to discuss what to do since its apparent that they have decided to target us”

“There is only one thing to do” Cordelia’s voice was dark - taking Madison by surprise.

“We take down these motherfuckers before they take down us” Madison had never seen this side of the herbologist and she rather liked it.

“NO!” Stiles said wide eyed. “Those things are dangerous. You cant put yourself in harms way because of me” Madison snorted.

“Did you not see what Terminator over here did to that thing? She ripped it apart like it was nothing. And besides if they were here for you why did they come _after me_ saying some bullshit about ‘test subject’ acquired?” she tossed her hair.

“I'd love to rip them apart and all their abominations too. And if those bastards try stop me spouting some shit about morals and whatnot, then Ill be sure to make a whole winter ensamble out of them”

“We got your back whiteboy” Queenie said.

“Of course” Misty squeezed his knee.

“You are one of us” Nan added.

“The coven sticks together” Zoe kissed his cheek. Stiles was crying again but with a smile this time.

“Thank you” he said softly, no other words needed.

Fiona stood and the fireplace roared as her power spread through the room.

“When witches don’t fight we burn. You have all proven yourselves to be capable witches and under my command we will lay siege to those who destroy us” a cigarette flew from the antique holder into her hand, lighting itself. She took a puff, breathing the smoke smoothly into the air.

“We leave tomorrow. Werewolves, chimeras, hunters, humans, it matters not. We'll kill them all. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there we go - Stiles is about to return to Beacon Hills with his coven at his back to deal with enemies and issues of the past. Are you guys excited?


	8. Bitchcraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coven arrives in Beacon Hills. Tensions flare as the McCall pack confronts Stiles and his Friends.

“Are you serious?” Stiles asked as they sped down the highway from the airport. Beacon Hills wasn’t far now.

“I’m not one for jokes” Fiona said airily, the tip of her cigarette flaring as she took a drag. The shiny gold credit card glittered in her black gloved hand. He took it hesitantly. Mieczyslaw Stilinski was printed in white, crisp letters on the back of it.

“There are several millions allotted to it.”

Stiles dropped it.

“Once you come of age you will have access to your full inheritance” Stiles couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You really do give a shit. Who would’ve thought?” Cordelia said, smirking at her mother. She turned to him.

“I got my card around the same age as you did – it’s a family tradition.”

Stiles swallowed.

“I knew she was rich… but me?”

Fiona snorted, adjusting her dark sunglasses.

“Our family is old money. When your mother ran off she left her inheritance behind – I’m just passing it on… it’s what she would have wanted” Fiona’s tone betrayed the slightest hint of melancholy but it was gone as soon as it came.

“You owe me money for takeout” Zoe teased, bumping his shoulder with her own. Stiles felt his heartbeat speed up at the touch.

“Let me be quite frank about our business here” Fiona continued in her no nonsense tone. Stiles pocketed the card carefully and turned his full attention to what she was saying.

“We are going to find these _Dread Doctors_ and their creations and destroy them without exception. Any interference from self righteous alphas, cocky teen were-creatures, hunters and whatever the hell else in this place, will not be tolerated.” She paused for a second to gauge their reactions.

“You have seen his memories – you know what they are capable of - their propensity to interfere in everything that happens around them and their mentality to people that chose to kill their targets instead of throwing a fucking tea party and baking cookies” Fiona rolled her eyes and tossed the cigarette stump out the window.

“We also need to check out the Nemeton that is at the heart of all of this” Cordelia joined in.

“It’s not altogether a stretch to say that its power could be harnessed by our enemies and used against us.”

Fiona nodded in agreement.

“You and Misty should be able to handle that without much trouble.” Misty flashed a smile at Cordelia and it might have been Stiles imagination but he could’ve sworn he saw Cordelia blush ever slightly. _Interesting_ he thought.

“Stiles, you will take Zoe and Madison to Beacon Hills high and identify all our targets Do try not to kill anyone just yet. We have no idea how much test subjects have been created and how many more are on the way. Until the Creators are dead and we are sure more aren’t on the way we can’t be alerting them to any danger would make them flee. I honestly don’t want to stay in this backwater town any more than I have to” Fiona gave him a wan look

“I’m afraid that means you will have to be there for some time. Although I’m sure you have some unfinished business to attend in any case”

“You have no idea” Stiles smirked.

“Queenie and Nan – you will help me search the town for the bastards that attacked the academy. With your clairvoyance, we should be able to find them in several days if not less.” They nodded to her and the journey continued in silence.

Entering Beacon Hills sent a pang of anxiety through him. Stiles wanted his bed, he wanted to research with the others and look forward to training the next day. He wanted the safety of the academy that shielded him from all the evil of the outside world - the ignorance and hatred that permeated the very air. He didn’t know how exactly he felt about returning. It belonged to a different time in his life, a different life entirely, a different Stiles. Three months wasn’t exactly the longest period of time – he knew this, but those months at the academy felt more along the lines of three years. His girls made him feel more accepted and loved than any of the so called “pack: ever did in all the times that he knew them. And starving for love, he had let them use him and wring him dry, left him to pick up the pieces of himself and glue them back together in all the wrong positions. He felt sick just thinking about everything he had gone through willingly. So much time wasted. But now he had a second shot – he had a family now - a real family. And he’d be damned if he let anyone harm them. He’d kill all who stood in his way. He felt certain the opportunity to do so would present itself before long.

The mini – van pulled up in front of the high school. He glanced at his watch – in about one minute the ten minute recess between the first two classes would begin. There was no time to prepare to face them. He felt the pang of anxiety turn into a throb. But then hands grabbed his own.

“we’re right here with you” Zoe flashed that smile at him that did all kinds of things inside him.

“Witches don’t take shit from anyone” Madison sneered at the school through the tinted windows.

“I’d have let you settle in first but we aren’t here on vacation. The faster we get this done the faster we can leave” Fiona’s voice was softer than her usual biting sarcasm. Stiles nodded, opening the car door.

“Oh and Stiles_ he turned back. Fiona’s smile was wicked.

“Give them hell”

He felt his anxiety unfurl and disappear. He flexed his powers and smirked, sliding out the car smoothly. With Zoe and Madison to either side of him - he knew they looked intimidating. Pale, smooth skin, expressionless, all black outfits and moving completely in sync as they strolled into the school like they owned the place. With the shared power between them, he supposed that they basically did.

Students loitering the hallway stopped and stared, making no secret of the fact that they were. The whispers spread like wildfire and he thrived off of it in a way the old Stiles could never dream of. He saw Lydia Martin and whoever the fuck she was currently sleeping with, step out from a closet and look around to see what all the commotion was. He saw her sharp intake of breath as she caught sight of him and she pulled out her phone, tapping furiously. He didn’t spare them a second glance, his smirk widening as they stepped into a vacant classroom and closed the door behind them.

He laughed – euphoria bubbling up in him as he sat on the teacher’s desk.

“This feels fucking amazing” he whispered. He looked at Madison. No wonder she had such a dramatic flair.

“How the fuck do you deal with all that everywhere you go?” she laughed snobbishly and flipped her hair. Stiles felt affection rush through him at the familiar Madison move.

“I’d say you get used to it but you really don’t. Although from the stories Fiona tells about her round the world tours she probably gets it way more than I do.” Madison jumped up next to him and crossed her legs. Her leggings looked amazing on her, Stiles thought. Zoe was looking around the room with her nose wrinkled.

“I’d almost forgotten how much I hated high school.”

Stiles reach out and pulled her to brace against him, his hand around her waist.

“Thanks for doing this for me” He whispered softly against her temple – he told himself it was so that no super hearing could detect what he was saying, but the heat that flooded his stomach was saying something else altogether. Zoe didn't seem to mind the touch, placing her hand over his. The moment was abruptly broken when his magic spiked and feelings flashed through him.

“We got company” Zoe said, who also possessed the power of divination. Madison who did not – grumbled besides them, slipping her hand around Stiles’s shoulder as the door flew open.

Scott was leading them of course – that perpetually confused look on his face as he filed in with his ragtag group of friends and stood on the other side of the classroom facing them. Theo was there – staring with cold cold hard eyes that flitted back and forth between the three of them. Calculating. Anger boiled in Stiles’s stomach and his magic blazed around him. Of course that fucker is still among them. Now that Fiona had trained him in divination, he could see that his “hunch” about the bastard was quite correct. Malicious energy poured off of him in waves. Stiles couldn't help but wonder if Theo would actually get the chance to betray Scott before he personally tore his limbs off and mounted his head on a spike. 

_Oh well_ he thought. _Got to have some mystery in life._

“Stiles?” Scott’s voice was loud, incredulous and angry all at once. Stiles held back from rolling his eyes with great difficulty.

“Can we help you” Madison’s tone was what Stiles imagined drowning in poisoned honey would feel like.

“And who exactly are you?” Lydia had stepped forward airily to confront Madison. Stiles could see the calculating look as she took in Madison’s expensive appearance.

“Whoever the fuck I want to be” Madison said with a smile that said _get wrecked_. A neon sign would have been less effective.

“Ill ask again for your limited brain span. C A N W E H E L P Y O U ?” Stiles could’ve kissed her She has quickly turned the tables around like it was the most natural thing in the world. Stiles supposed for her it probably was.

“Stiles” Scott growled, stepping forward. He probably thought he was intimidating. It was quite funny. “What are you doing here?”

“I go to school here Scotty” Stiles was actually surprised at the amount of venom and sarcasm he was able to naturally incorporate. Being around Madison certainly had its perks.

“You haven’t been to school in three months! You disappeared. Stiles – _your father is dead_ , he burned to death in your house. No one knows how the fire started, your jeep was in the driveway but you were nowhere to be found. The police even thought you were dead but your remains weren’t anywhere in the rubble.”

Stiles feigned a gasp – his hand to his mouth, eyes wide – the whole works.

“How tragic, let's all have a moment of silence.” A beat of silence.

“Well that’s that. But that still doesn’t explain explain why you and your shoe licking puppies are here surrounding us.

Scott growled, his eyes flashing red and stalking forward.

“Where the hell have you been? Who the hell are these people? You have some explaining to do” Big mistake. Stiles let his magic fly and Scott was on the floor, screaming and clutching his head.

Fiona called it pain infliction - using your raw magic to build pressure in your targets head. It was convenient for knocking someone out cold, but enough pressure could make someone’s head explode. Literally. Stiles idly wondered how much a werewolf alpha was capable of taking without going into a coma.

“Scott!” Kira and Liam ran forward, but with a wave of her hand Madison had the desks exploding in towering flames. They jumped back.

“Oh my God! Stop it!” Lydia screamed, clasping her hand to her mouth. The rest of the pack had shifted into their were forms behind her, crouching and snarling but none had come forward – clearly scared and confused.

“Impressive” Stiles said “You can teach old dogs new tricks” He stopped the flow of his magic and Scott slumped to the floor. The fire ended abruptly.

“This is the so called 'true alpha'?” Madison scoffed. “I couldn’t toast a piece of bread with the heat you were putting on him.”

Liam stepped forward - hesitantly this time, grabbing Scott and pulling him back across the room. As if that would save him if Stiles decided he wanted his heart to fly out of his chest. Scott looked at the charred desks and then up at him, breathing raggedly. Stiles smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

“Here’s whats going to happen” Stiles hopped off the desk and stepped forward, Zoe and Madison to either side of him.

“You and your merry troupe of assholes are going to leave us alone. Find some other tree to lift your legs and piss on. And maybe – just maybe, I won’t separate any of your pretty little heads from your bodies.” A flick of his mind and the door flew open, banging noisily.

“Get out and stay gone” Backs to the door, they retreated. The door slammed after them.

Stiles laughed. And laughed, and laughed. He clutched his side and collapsed in one of the chairs. Zoe and Madison were staring at him with small smiles.

“Feels good doesn’t it?” Madison said, pulling out her make up mirror and fixing her hair that didn’t need fixing at all.

“The best” He said, wiping a tear.

“After all this time, I’m finally the one that gets to talk while others listen. I don’t have to be afraid of any them. Outshined and cast away.” He rose and stretched just as the bell rang.

“I’m no longer in danger. I’m the danger”

Returning to Beacon Hills was turning out to be not so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The witches are here to take Beacon Hills by storm. Who should they kill first?


	9. Spiderweb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Coven begins their investigation into the happenings of Beacon Hills.

**Beacon Hills Animal Clinic** was exactly the type of place Fiona expected a modern day Druid to inhabit. While she never knew any personally, she got the gist of the job description – being in the forest and dealing with animals, she shuddered. The bell rang as she walked in with Queenie and Nan behind her.

“Just a second!” came from the back room. Fiona cast her magic around the building, looking for any threats. Some mountain ash, another person – human – was also at the back, but nothing of concern. Fiona had been quite surprised to learn that a Druid – a supposed wise being who was known to be an adviser to lesser supernatural creatures – had not only let the teen alpha constantly put his and the lives of those around him in danger, but had actually helped him in doing so. So much for wisdom.

“I’m so sorry, it’s been a busy day – ” The man – Deaton, Dante something or the other, she didn’t really care to remember - stopped short when he caught sight of Fiona. His eyes flickered behind her and then back.

“Madam Supreme” he swallowed. “I didn’t expect to have ever cross paths with someone like you”

She smiled broadly. He lacks the wisdom but has the knowledge. Although he could’ve just known her by face – she had been almost everywhere at some point in time - met countless people of which he easily could have been one.

“You seem co-operative enough. This doesn’t have to be an unpleasant experience” she said demurely.

“Doctor I’m really in a hurry here” A man came from the room, a sour look on his face. A wave of her hand and he headed back without a sound. Deaton watched the interaction expressionless. Queenie turned the **open** sign to **closed**.

“Now then” Fiona sat down on one of the waiting chairs. A flick of magic and the doctor was gasping, body going rigid as his mind fought off the intrusion.

“Oh you’re a tough guy” Fiona said softly, watching him struggle.

“In about ten seconds I’m going to turn the heat up in that chubby melon of yours and I’m going to turn your brain into scrambled eggs” she said dramatically with a freezing smile.

“But quite frankly it’s been a long morning and I’d rather not kill anyone before lunch.” The man was convulsing now, a stream of blood running from his nose. Then he went still – a blank expression replacing the one of fear as her magic took over his mind.

“Now that we’ve been acquainted” Fiona crossed her legs.

“Tell me everything you know about whats going on in Beacon Hills. I want to know about the Nemeton, Stiles Stilinksi, Scott McCall, the brats in his pack, the Dread doctors, all their creations – leave nothing out.”

* * *

“I think we’re lost.” Misty said, breaking the silence that been boiling between the two of them for the past half hour. Cordelia jumped at the sudden noise and turned to look at her student. Misty was looking at her expectantly to pull a solution out of thin air like all teachers were supposed to able to.

“It’s a big forest” Cordelia said, hoping she wasn’t sounding as confused as she felt. She was almost certain that they had been in this clearing exactly the first time they started – the woods seem to be mocking her, the noise of wildlife hitting her from all directions –loud, disorienting.

“No I don’t think it’s that” Misty drawled. Her face was scrunched up in a way Cordelia thought was exceptionally cute – Jesus Delia not this again.

“There is power in these trees” Misty continued, oblivious to the dilemma that was going through Cordelia’s head.

“The Nemeton was fully charged up when Stiles sacrificed himself to find his asswipe of a father” Cordelia muttered, sifting through the memories she had seen from her cousin.

“One of the most ridiculous things I could think of ever doing. Although I suppose I’m biased” she acquiesced. Cordelia looked around and closed her eyes focusing. There was indeed power in the trees – a lot of it, and it swirled especially thick around the two of them.

“A cloaking spell” She concluded. Damned, ritualistic tree stump – this was exactly what she needed to start off her morning. A strange town, no coffee and trapped in a cloaking spell with her student that she had more than academic feelings for.

“We should get Fiona” Misty said, eyes darting around.

“NO!” Cordelia’s voice was sharper than she expected and she mentally smacked herself when she saw Misty flinch back. The last thing she wanted was for Misty to be afraid of her.

“No.” She repeated softly.

“I’m your headmistress. A graduated witch of the Academy – I got this” The words were said more to reassure herself than Misty, but it seemed to calm the younger witch regardless. Gathering her energy, Cordelia started chanting.

  
ridicați vălul

ștergeți calea

Îndepărtează ceața

Îndepărtează ceața

ridicați vălul

ștergeți calea

The wind picked up angrily, shards of angry voices hissing at her as she let her magic flow free.

ridicați vălul

ștergeți calea

Îndepărtează ceața

Îndepărtează ceața

ridicați vălul

ștergeți calea

The shards were full blown whispers now, gaining in intensity. The wind had her hair flying wildly and the trees creaked ominously overhead. Cordelia was pissed off – she was self conscious about her appearance enough as it was.

RIDICAȚI VĂLUL!

ȘTERGEȚI CALEA!

ÎNDEPĂRTEAZĂ CEAȚA!

ÎNDEPĂRTEAZĂ CEAȚA!

RIDICAȚI VĂLUL!

ȘTERGEȚI CALEA!

Complete silence filled the clearing – the wind disappearing as abruptly as it came. Cordelia stood there – hands in a T-pose – eyes darting around. Laughter startled her.

“That was amazing” Misty said, her face lit up as she giggled. Cute really was the only word for it Cordelia thought.

“Let’s go” she said smiling softly, and the two of them set off into the forest - unaware of the silent intruder that slowly followed them.

* * *

Stiles was bored. He drummed his pencil against his desk at the back of Economics classroom as coach _whatshisface_ droned on and on about something or the other. Madison was on her phone next to him, tapping away unconcerned and Zoey was on the other side staring out the window. It would have actually been quite manageable if it weren’t for the fact that most of the pack was also in there with them – glancing back every three seconds like they expected him to start killing everyone in the room. At this point he was considering it, itching for some action besides the little show they had put on that morning. His phone vibrated.

 ** _Do we really have to sit in this dump for another hour?_** Madison had sent to the group chat between the three of them.

 _ **For the rest of the freaking week until we get the information Fiona needs**_. He sent back

_**You can’t be serious** _

_**Unless any of you have another way to identify the damned things we’re after.**_ Zoe joined in.

Stiles thought for a moment.

_**Nan could help – she’s clairvoyant after all.** _

_**But she is helping Fiona track down the dread doctors.** _

_**And Misty who has that energy detection country whatever it is, is with Cordelia dealing with a magical tree stump**_. Stiles could feel the sarcasm bleeding through the screen

**_And even if they were available, do we really want to admit to Fiona that we couldn’t accomplish a task she gave to us._ **

Stiles shuddered at the thought. Disappointing someone was one thing – disappointing her was a whole other ball park.

 _ **You two possess divination. Why can’t you do it?**_ Madison continued

 _ **Too many people.**_ They both shot back.

Stiles smiled like an idiot at the in sync moment. But it faded just as fast at the thought of having to come here over and over again looking for needles in a hormone infested haystack. Although he didn't being the popular guy for once, he found that he didn't really care either way. Why should he? Noone here knew _him_ or gave a shit about _him._ Why would he care what they thought of him _._ If only they had someone who was close to the dread doctors that would know who the test subjects were – Stiles froze. Of course. His eyes glanced across the room at Theo who was staring at him with loathing. Stiles smiled – cold and dark and waved at him cockily as the idea took root.

_**I know who can help.** _

The bell signaling the end of the school day was the best thing Stiles had heard in the longest time. He was feeling rather smug that he had managed to shake up the entire school ecosystem and figure out an easy way to locate their targets all in one day. Not to mention the said way to locate their targets would involve getting revenge on the person that fucked up his life to begin with. Although – he thought as they started walking down the street to their new house – it had led him to something even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How should Theo die?

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a review? Love it? Hate it? Spotted a typo? Feel free to go off.


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